


soupmates

by thewalrus_said



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Don't copy to another site, Excessive Borscht, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Soulmates, Soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said
Summary: Yuuri’s soulmate eats borscht every day. If only Yuuri could stand the taste of beets.(An AU where you taste what your soulmate eats, but only when it’s soup.)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 78
Kudos: 358





	soupmates

**Author's Note:**

> #tfw a typo spawns an AU

Yuuri kept one eye on his computer’s clock as he typed, and as soon as it ticked over to 12:00, he saved the record he was working on and locked his screen. “Lunchtime?” Phichit asked, one desk over.

“Lunchtime,” Yuuri agreed, rolling his chair back and standing up. “Coming?”

“Let me finish with this, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded and made his way to the break room.

Yuuri had leftover Thai for lunch today, remnants of last night’s dinner with Phichit and Sara, and the break room filled with a delicious smell as the microwave did its work. His fork was scraping the bottom of the tupperware by the time Phichit joined him. “Ooh, trade you for the last bite,” Phichit said, sitting down next to him.

“Trade for what?” Yuuri asked suspiciously, eyeing Phichit’s lunchbox.

“Carrot?” Yuuri rolled his eyes and deliberately put the last forkful in his mouth. “There’s no need to be rude about it,” Phichit sniffed, unpacking said carrots and his traditional turkey and cheese sandwich. Yuuri stole a carrot and crunched it in half before Phichit could stop him.

They chatted for the rest of Yuuri’s lunch hour, and Yuuri left him with a smile when it was time to head back to his desk. As he went through the door into the open office, he could see Viktor across the room, standing with a stretch for his own break. He caught sight of Yuuri and gave him a big smile and a wave. Yuuri blushed and waved back, ducking his head and scurrying for his desk.

He reopened the record he had been working on and settled back into the flow of cataloging, comparing the record to the book nestled into the cradle on his desk. Before five minutes had passed, though, his mouth filled with the unmistakable taste of beets. He sighed and reached for the packet of spearmint gum he kept in his desk drawer.

“Soulmate at it again?” Phichit asked ten minutes later, sitting down at his own desk.

“If I ever find them I’m going to introduce them to a whole new world of soups,” Yuuri muttered around the gum in his mouth. “They’re not going to touch a beet ever again.”

“You’ll find them,” Phichit said. “How many people are there that eat borscht at the same time every day?” Yuuri just shook his head and got back to work.

The taste faded about twenty minutes after it appeared, the same way it always did. Yuuri carefully spit the gum into the wrapper and tossed it in to his trash can. The spearmint helped drown out the beets, but on its own it was a little too much for Yuuri’s tastes. Eventually the door to the break room opened and Viktor made his way back to his desk, catching Yuuri’s eye with another little smile and wave.

“I still think you should actively be searching,” Phichit said over drinks that night. “They really can’t be that hard to find. Just one viral tweet could be all that’s standing between you and your soulmate, Yuuri!”

Yuuri shook his head. “I can’t make a tweet go viral, Phichit, I’m not  _ you. _ And I’m not even sure it really is a soulmate thing. Maybe I have a brain tumor.”

“A brain tumor that goes off at the same time every day? No way, Yuuri. It’s your soulmate.” Phichit grinned. “Maybe it’s someone at the office. Maybe it’s  _ Viktor, _ you ever think about that?”

“Shut up,” Yuuri groaned, taking a long swig from his drink. It was true the beets always appeared while Viktor was on his lunch break, and it was true that Viktor was Russian and therefore probably genetically predisposed to love borscht, but... No way. “It’s not Viktor.”

“Maybe you should just ask him out anyway,” Phichit said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“He looks at me like he looks at everyone,” Yuuri said firmly. “I’m not asking him out, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“He do-oes,” Phichit sang into his glass. “Trust me, I have your best interests at heart. And your best interests involve riding that Russian dick into the sun-”

“Okay,” Yuuri said hurriedly, slapping a hand over Phichit’s mouth. He drained his glass and stood up. “I think you’ve had enough, and I definitely have. I’m headed home.” Phichit pouted but followed suit.

Yuuri tried to put Phichit’s words out of mind in the days that followed, despite lingering dreams inspired by Phichit’s imagery. He focused on working while he was at work, he chewed his gum while his soulmate ate, and he blushed whenever Viktor looked at him and smiled.

One day, he woke up ten minutes before his bus left. “Shit shit shit shit,” he chanted to himself, scrambling into work clothes and jamming his shoes on his feet. He darted into the kitchen, grabbed a cup noodle for lunch, and darted for the door.

“Ooh, soup today?” Phichit said in the break room at lunch. “Can’t remember the last time I saw you eat soup.”

“Woke up late,” Yuuri said, poking at the limp vegetables with a plastic spoon. Normally he avoided soup, not wanting to spend any more time than he had to thinking about his soulmate, but there was nothing like a cheap cup noodle for days when he was in a hurry, or too lost in a video game to cook or go out to eat.

“Maybe today’s the day!” Phichit chirped, crunching a piece of celery with a wide grin. Yuuri ignored him.

Lunch break over, he tossed the paper cup into the trash and headed for the door. To his surprise, just as he put a hand to the knob the door swung inwards, missing his face by inches. “Oh, god!” Viktor yelped from the other side. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“I’m good,” Yuuri said, heart hammering at the near miss and the close proximity to Viktor. Viktor smelled  _ good, _ like fresh cut grass and earthy wood chips. Yuuri had to fight the urge to put his face into Viktor’s neck and inhale him. They were at  _ work. _ “Missed me.”

“Good.” Viktor smiled then and stood aside, letting Yuuri pass. Their shoulders brushed as he slipped through the door. Yuuri shivered. The door fell shut behind him with a bang, as though Viktor had dropped it suddenly. Yuuri shook his head and went back to his desk.

The next day, as Yuuri sat in the break room bent over his roasted chicken and vegetables, the door opened. He looked up, expecting to see Phichit, but it wasn’t Phichit. “Viktor?” he asked, as Viktor looked around the room and caught sight of him. “You don’t usually take your lunch at this time.”

Viktor beamed and came over to him. “Trying something new. Do you mind if I join you?” Yuuri shook his head and Viktor settled into Phichit’s usual seat. “Catalogue anything interesting today?” Viktor asked, opening his lunchbox.

“Um,” Yuuri said, poking at his chicken. “Biography of famous historical poisoners, that was pretty interesting.” He winced. Who talked about  _ poisoners _ at  _ lunch? _

But Viktor just nodded. “That does sound interesting! I’ll have to check it out before it hits the shelves. I love a good biography.”

“Me too,” Yuuri admitted. “I may have already put a hold on it.”

Viktor laughed. “I’ll wait my turn, then.” He pulled a tightly sealed round tupperware and a spoon out of his lunchbox, and cracked the lid to reveal a thick red liquid inside. The smell of beets hit Yuuri’s nose.

“Is... Is that borscht?” Yuuri asked faintly, nodding to the tupperware.

Viktor nodded, turning another smile onto Yuuri. “Traditional family recipe. I make a big batch every Sunday so I don’t have to worry about lunches for the week.”

“Oh,” Yuuri managed. He shoved a piece of broccoli into his mouth to obscure his expression.

It didn’t mean anything, he told himself firmly. Lots of people probably ate borscht every day. His soulmate was probably somewhere in the coldest part of Siberia, and all they could grow on their farm was beets, and so they ate borscht every day.

That was probably offensive. Yuuri shook himself and speared a piece of chicken on his fork. Next to him, Viktor picked up his spoon and took a bite of soup.

The taste of beets exploded on Yuuri’s tongue.

_Coincidence,_ Yuuri thought desperately. _Doesn’t mean anything._ _Viktor’s not my soulmate._

But every time Viktor took a bite, Yuuri was treated to a burst of flavor interacting with his own vegetables. Finally, as Viktor scooped up the last spoonful, something in Yuuri snapped. He had to know.

Yuuri reached out and put his hand on Viktor’s wrist. Viktor froze, looking at him with wide eyes. Yuuri took the spoon without a word; Viktor relinquished it after a few seconds of confusion, eyebrows furrowing. Yuuri closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put the spoon into his mouth.

He let the borscht sit in his mouth for a few seconds and then swallowed slowly. He let out another breath and prepared to open his eyes; before he could quite manage it, though, something soft and warm was pressed to his mouth that Yuuri recognized after a few heart-pounding seconds as a pair of lips.

Yuuri grabbed blindly out in front of him, one hand landing on Viktor’s shoulder and the other on the back of his head, and kissed back. Viktor groaned, pressing closer. Yuuri opened his eyes to see that Viktor had his closed, and his hands were tense on the table like he wanted to reach out and grab hold of Yuuri too. Yuuri kissed him again and Viktor lost the fight, putting a hand up to touch Yuuri’s face.

They kissed for what felt like hours, Yuuri experiencing the taste of the borscht fresh from Viktor’s tongue instead of through their soulbond. Finally, with one last lick across Yuuri’s lower lip, Viktor’s mouth released his with a sigh. Yuuri pressed their foreheads together. “I really, really hate beets,” he whispered.

Viktor laughed long and heartily, leaning back and putting a hand on his stomach as he did. Yuuri grinned helplessly back, unable to do anything else. “I’ll think of something else to do for lunches,” Viktor said once he gained control of himself again. “I won’t make you suffer anymore.”

“I’m so glad it’s you,” Yuuri said, honest under the industrial fluorescent lighting. “Phichit’s been telling me to ask you out for months, ever since you started here, but I was too scared.”

“I thought for sure you would have mentioned if your soulmate ate borscht every day,” Viktor said with a smile. “I thought it couldn’t be you, but then my soulmate had soup yesterday for the first time in months and I had to come in early and see if you were eating soup, and then I saw the cup in the trash and started to hope.”

Yuuri kissed him again but was smiling too much to do it properly. “Let’s get dinner tonight,” he said. “Not soup. Come over and I’ll make pasta.”

“I love pasta,” Viktor said. “That sounds wonderful. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” Yuuri repeated. Viktor reached out and took hold of his right hand with a soft smile. Yuuri finished his lunch left-handed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://thewalrus-said.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/thewalrus_said)!


End file.
